


The Hidden Art of Shutting Sherlock Up

by toesohnoes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toesohnoes/pseuds/toesohnoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock has been complaining all day. John is running out of patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hidden Art of Shutting Sherlock Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written at my [Tumblr](http://toestastegood-fic.tumblr.com/post/16302958559/sherlock-has-been-complaining-all-day-hes-been).

Sherlock has been complaining all day. He’s been irritable ever since they left London, like a animal dragged out of its natural habitat. John can’t say that he understand. Sherlock travels. Quite a lot, actually. He’s always nipping in and out of the country for one job or another. Apparently heading out into the great British countryside triggers his bad moods.

For the most part, John is keeping his head down and keeping quiet. Occasionally, when Sherlock makes one of his more outrageous claims, he has to look up and object, but other than that the best thing to do with a moody Sherlock is to leave him to it.

On the trail for clues in the countryside, they walk side-by-side up a path through the woods. “It would be easier if wasn’t for the trees,” Sherlock grumbles, as if someone has left the countryside green purely to irritate him.

John takes a deep breath of the fresh air to steel himself, and then says, “Sherlock?”

“Hmm?” Sherlock replies, without looking up from his hunt for leaves crushed in a particular pattern.

John grabs him by the lapels of his ridiculous coat and kisses him before he can say anything else. It’s a kiss born of irritation, the blunt press of John’s mouth against his lips - a physical force, as well as a way for John to remind himself that he does generally like Sherlock. Just not when he’s like this.

He releases Sherlock and allows him to get back to work. There’s a fun, stunned moment in which Sherlock processes it. “What was that for?” he asks.

“Just getting you to stop complaining,” John says. “I like the countryside.”

Looking around, Sherlock manages to sigh rather than sneer. Small steps, John reminds himself. With Sherlock, that’s the most anyone can hope for: extremely small steps.


End file.
